Final Straw
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Ever after the war, Harry suffers from depression, and his friends try to help him, only partly succeeding with unexpected consequences. Completely AU, partly OOC, suicidal Harry, thus the rating. Not my usual fluff!


**Final Straw**  
**by Healer Pomfrey**

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.  
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes._

* * *

Harry slowly paced the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom after his last students had left for the day. He was deeply engrossed in his dark thoughts, only barely taking notice of the tempest that was raging outside the castle almost as if to match his mood. _'Maybe that's the best,'_ he suddenly thought and, making up his mind, he left the classroom in determination.

Twenty minutes later, he leaned over the cadaver of a once powerful basilisk. Deciding _'It's now or never'_ he greedily sucked in some of the venom that was still left in the remaining of the basilisk's fangs. _'That should be enough' _he thought and returned to his private quarters, stretching out on his most comfortable four poster bed, as he began to feel the effects of the poisoning.

_'That was it. No more dreams about my friends dying because of me,'_ he thought, before blissful unconsciousness engulfed him.

HP

At the same time, unbeknownst to Harry, his colleagues were having a staff meeting. Hermione, who had been the new Transfiguration teacher and Gryffindor Head since the beginning of the school year, just like Harry was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, had called her colleagues together out of utmost concern about her best friend.

"Ever since the end of the war and especially after finishing our seventh year and becoming teachers, Harry has been extremely depressed, and I'm afraid that he's going to try killing himself," she voiced her concern. "I think that he really needs some specialist's help, but he'd never ask for help."

"I believe that Hermione is correct," Severus was the first to support her opinion in his soft, silky voice that Hermione loved so much. "And it's getting worse by the day. He believes that he killed all those who lost their lives in the war just because of his mere existence, which is pure nonsense of course, but he doesn't seen reason. I've spoken with him about the matter several times - to no avail."

"And he looks like a ghost," Poppy threw in, "but he evades me like the pest."

"I'll go and speak with Harry," the Headmistress said in determination. "Maybe he needs to see a specialist. Poppy, will you accompany me?"

"Yes," the Healer replied immediately and rose from her chair. "Minnie, let's go right away."

When the two older witches left the room, Severus turned to Hermione. "Perhaps we need to try occupying his mind somehow."

"Yes, I already thought about that," Hermione replied, eagerly. "We could, for example, invent a Hogwarts teachers' Quidditch team making him the captain."

Severus smirked. "That's indeed an interesting idea," he commented, quirking an eyebrow at the witch in front of him. "Which position are you going to play?"

"None whatsoever," Hermione replied, blushing. "I don't like flying."

The two young teachers remained in the staff room talking about other possibilities to help Harry.

It was almost twenty minutes later that Misty, Poppy's personal house-elf, popped up in front of the colleagues. "Master Severus, Mistress Poppy immediately needs you to brew the antidote for basilisk poison."

"Thank God Harry once took me to the Chamber last year, so I have basilisk venom in stock," Severus thought aloud and asked urgently, "Hermione, would you come and assist please?"

"Of course," the young witch replied, giving the elf a grateful nod, when she offered to pop both colleagues straight to the Potions Master's lab.

HP

When Harry's mind turned back to awareness, it was dark around him; however, he realised immediately that his plan had failed, that he found himself in the hospital wing, and that two of his meddling colleagues were sitting next to his bed. He couldn't see who it was, but he could make out the shadows in the moon light that was falling in through the tall windows.

An instant later, the torches were lit, and the Healer bustled into the room. "Harry, you gave us all a big fright," she said, reproachfully, before she waved her wand over him in a quick succession.

"I just wanted to end the nightmare," Harry mumbled, quietly beginning to sob.

"There are other ways," a soft, baritone voice penetrated his ears. "Like for example putting all your memories into a Pensieve?"

"And survive without any memories except from my crappy childhood before Hogwarts?" Harry asked, incredulously. "No thanks." With that he turned around to face the wall, not wanting to speak with anyone. A mere instant later, he succumbed to the sleeping potion, which the Healer had unobtrusively spelled into his system.

HP

By the time Harry woke up, it was already light. This time, the Headmistress was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Harry," she said simply, giving him a warm smile.

"Why didn't they just let me go?" Harry asked in an upset voice. "It was my wish. I did everything that the magical world expected from me. Now why can't I now finally do what I want?"

"Harry, we love you and don't want to lose you," Minerva replied in a soft voice. "How are you feeling, physically I mean?"

"Fine," Harry lied, in spite of the fact that he had a splitting headache. "May I leave these rooms?"

"I'll fetch Poppy for you," his old Head of House replied gently and stepped around his bed.

A moment later, the Healer took her place. "Harry, I want you to accompany me to St. Mungo's," she said firmly. "Healer Miller is a specialist in psychology, and he'd like to try to help you."

"No," Harry growled. "Just let me go, please."

"Harry, please at least try to speak with Healer Miller," Minerva threw in. "Maybe he can help you."

"Can he bring Hedwig back to life? And Dobby? And Fred, Remus and Tonks? Sirius? My parents?" Harry asked, grumpily.

"Anyway Harry, you will accompany Poppy to St. Mungo's and speak with Healer Miller," the Headmistress instructed him in a firm voice, causing Harry to sigh.

"Eat your breakfast," Poppy ordered him, pointing to the tray that had appeared next to his bed, "and then we'll go."

"Let's go right away then," Harry replied. "I don't want to eat now."

HP

Healer Miller strangely reminded him of Remus, and Harry couldn't help liking the man. They spoke about the war and everything that was bothering Harry for about an hour, and Harry had to admit to himself that it felt good to speak with someone, who did not belong to his friends or colleagues, about the matter. However, he couldn't find that talking about it helped.

Nevertheless, the Healer agreed with Poppy that he was going to visit Harry in his office at Hogwarts three times a week, and Harry grudgingly agreed. _'At least Healer Miller is nice,'_ he thought in relief.

HP

During the following weeks, Harry noticed in annoyance that his colleagues were watching him like hawks. Even during the weekends or after classes, they barely gave him time to spend just by himself. _'Great Merlin, sometimes I just want to be alone,'_ he thought, annoyed, when the Potions Master stood into his door frame asking if he had time to assist with an urgent potion.

"Since when do you need assistance?" he queried, as he followed the older wizard down to the dungeons.

Severus let out a long sigh, before he admitted in a small voice that ever since his almost death at the end of the war, he had problems with his left hand and sometimes needed someone to assist. "Usually Hermione is so kind to assist, but since she's ill with the wizard's flu, I need someone else today and she recommended you," he explained.

While Harry assisted the Potions Master, the ultimate idea penetrated his head. _'That's it,'_ he thought, _'and this time I'll make sure that nothing can go wrong.'_

The following day was Saturday, the day on which most of the students were going to board the Hogwarts Express to return to their families over the winter holidays. Like most other teachers, Harry escorted the students to the station and returned to Hogwarts together with his colleagues, except for Hermione, who was still ill. When they reached the castle, he turned to the Headmistress. "Minerva, would you please excuse me from the staff meeting? My headache is too bad today."

McGonagall cast him a surprised look, knowing that the boy would never willingly admit that he was feeling unwell. However, from Poppy and Severus, she knew that ever since his basilisk poisoning he was suffering from a permanent headache that was resistant to all known potions.

"All right Harry, take a rest, and I'll check on you after the meeting," she said kindly.

HP

While everyone else was heading to the staff room, Harry hurried to the potions classroom, summoned the recipe for the potion that he was going to brew and set to work. Half an hour later, he returned to his private quarters with a small phial and a copy of the potions recipe in his robe pocket.

HP

When the staff meeting was over, Minerva addressed the Potions Master. "Severus, will you please accompany me to Harry's rooms and check on him? I suspect that he caught the flu from Hermione, but knowing that he woudn't take it well if I brought Poppy..."

"No problem, Minerva, I'll accompany you," Severus promised, gently. "I also want to check on Hermione afterwards."

Together, the two colleagues entered Harry's rooms, and Minerva remembered, terrified, how she had found Harry almost dead the last time. _'Oh no, what has he done now?'_ she wondered, horrified, when her younger colleague let out an uncharacteristically huge gasp upon entering Harry's bedroom.

An instant later, she took in the naked baby that was lying on the bed, only loosely covered with black robes and violently shivering from the cold.

"Dada" the baby voiced at the Potions Master's sight, causing Severus to cast Minerva a horrified look.

"Do you think you can easily age him back to his usual age?" Minerva asked, doubtfully.

"No," Severus replied in determination after pointing his wand at the boy's head. "He's running a fever of forty degrees and is ill with the wizard's flu. Moreover..." he interrupted himself, glancing at the night table, where the recipe of the potion was laid out together with a letter. "He doesn't have any memories," he continued, seemingly shocked.

Minerva picked up the letter, feeling equally shocked about the matter.

_'Dear friends,  
I'm sorry for de-aging myself. Please don't age me back, as I don't have any memories. I only remember you. I'd love to be raised at Hogwarts, if possible by Hermione and Severus. Or you can just kill me, I don't mind. If you choose to keep me, please give me a children's book for Christmas, as I never had one. Sorry for being such a burden.  
Love you all,  
Harry_

Pocketing the letter, Minerva picked up the baby, which Severus had in the meantime dressed in a dark green jumpsuit with yellow dragons that roared from time to time.

"Gwanny," Harry mumbled and tiredly let himself sink into her robes.

"Let's go and see Hermione," Minerva said, casting Severus a pointed look.

"Yes, and then I need to brew a few potions for the baby," her younger colleague replied, giving the baby a concerned look when it let out a few coughs.

HP

Together they entered Hermione's rooms, noticing that the young witch was sitting on the sofa reading a book.

"Who's that?" she asked in surprise, before realisation set in, when she gave the baby a close look.

"Mama," little Harry blurted out, stretching out both arms to her, as if he wanted her to pick him up.

"Hermione's your mummy, Severus your daddy, and I'm Granny?" Minerva asked the baby, carefully caressing his small cheeks with her cold hands.

"Yef," Harry replied, smiling.

"It's fine with me," Hermione replied, casting the Potions Master a hesitant glance.

"We'll speak about the matter, when you're not delirious anymore," Severus sneered and with a flick of his wand transformed the sofa into a bed. Noticing that Hermione began to cough harshly, he apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you. It's all right; we'll somehow manage to raise the dunderhead." Holding out two phials for his colleague, he announced that he'd come back with potions for Harry in a while. "Harry," he cooed to the baby, "you sleep here with Mama. Dada will come and make you all better in a bit."

"Kay," Harry replied and tiredly nestled into Hermione's arm, a small thumb wandering into his mouth, as he drifted off to sleep.

"It must have been his final straw," Hermione said, sleepily. "I hope Severus and I will manage to give him a happy childhood."

"You will," Minerva said in a soothing voice, pointing at Harry, who was wearing a smile on his face, which they had not seen since before the war.

**The End**


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